


Anything for you

by LaLunaWritesStuff



Series: Moments of Spideypool [28]
Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types, spideypool-fandom
Genre: Established Relationship, Love, M/M, Sick Character, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-15
Updated: 2014-09-15
Packaged: 2018-02-17 12:52:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2310284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaLunaWritesStuff/pseuds/LaLunaWritesStuff
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wade comes home to find out Peter lied to him about how sick he really is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Anything for you

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys :D  
> Back again with the promised super-sized chapter! Gotta make it quick, moving preparations are waiting! 
> 
> Enjoy <3

Wade pulled a face when he heard the loud coughs coming from the bedroom. If he’d known it was that bad, he would’ve been home way earlier.

When talking to him on the phone, Peter always made it sound like he’d just caught a mild flu, nothing more than a runny nose, really, but now that Wade was home again, he saw the full scale.   
Peter was coughing almost non stop since Wade had come back last night. The young man looked incredibly pale, his hair sticking to the sweaty forehead, but he complained about being cold all the time, despite his skin being hot like a stove. Wade sighed deeply when another coughing fit shook the lithe body. 

“I made you some more tea,” Wade announced when he came back into the room, where Peter was burried under the blankets.   
“Thanks,” came the raspy response, voice barely audible through the inflamed throat. The young man’s eyes looked blearily in Wade’s direction, but he was most likely unable to even focus.   
Wade smiled, although he didn’t feel like it upon seeing his lover’s condition. There was a bucket with cold water next to the bed and Wade changed the wet cloths that he’d wrapped around Peter’s legs to ease the fever.   
“I took some of that chicken soup from aunt May outta the freezer for you, so tell me when you get hungry, okay?”   
“Mhm,” Peter hummed, but his eyes drifted shut again pretty quickly. 

When he was sure not to be seen, Wade let his scowl return and sat on the bed to watch his lover. Last night, the younger man had thrown up at least three times, and had not eaten anything since then. Wade had managed to coax two crackers into him, but that was it except for hot tea and lemon water. 

There was a whole tray full of medicine on the nighstand next to Peter, but although he had taken some or the other from it throughout the day, Wade didn’t quite feel like it got any better. The Merc occasionally checked Peter’s temperature with a little thermometer he could just hold into his ear, but despite the fever pills and cold cloths, it didn’t go down. 

Wade felt useless, since he could only do what Peter told him to – open the windows for fresh air every two hours, change the wet cloths before that, get him this or that pill with some water.   
It was late evening, but not late enough to try and go to sleep, so Wade snatched Peter’s laptop from the desk and watched some Youtube videos with the headphones in, and actually checkes his mails. Eventually he also laid down, but not before checking Peter’s temperature again – frowning, since it hadn’t gotten down a bit – and replacing the cold towels around the younger man’s legs. He didn’t even wake up, although Wade had changed the water before and they must’ve been very cold. Well, at least his features looked more relaxed when Wade put another blanket on top of his lover, because he’d said he just needed to sweat out the fever. 

Wade didn’t have a very good night, but Peter’s was definitely worse. The young hero scrambled out of bed at least three times just to throw up, and then two other times to take some more medicine since he had a hard time breathing.   
Also, he snored like ten chainsaws with his stuffed nose.   
It was all annoying as hell, but Wade was more concerned about how the fever didn’t go down. At five in the morning Wade got up again to make more tea, while Peter just recovered from his last puke-a-thon. He also brought him some rice crackers and a sliced up banana, since the young man needed some sugar and protein if he kept going like that.

And he did. Peter humoured him by snacking on the crackers and banana, then sipping some tea, but threw up everything not even an hour later. 

Wade had never been so glad when his lover fell asleep after that and some more medicine, finally exhausted enough to rest. He snored loudly again, so Wade propped him up on some pillows to at least help him breathe. 

Aunt May’s soup still waited in the fridge for whenever Peter was hungy, and Wade hoped that would be soon, as a sign of recovery. He busied himself with some household chores – doing the laundry, mainly, since Peter was sweating like a race horse – but Wade found himself checking on Peter every ten seconds.  
He was worried beyond words, it just hurt him to see his lover so sick. Wade didn’t know what it was like to be physically sick; he knew pain, but seeing what Peter went through right now, that was a whole different thing. 

When he had just finished the majority of the household tasks it was already evening, and Wade considered ordering some food in for himself, as he heard Peter stumbling through the bedroom again. Wade got up from the sofa to go to the door. The young man was white as a sheet, wobbling slightly, and panting even though he barely walked faster than a snail. The bathroom door was open, so he must’ve just made it back from throwing up again.

 

“Sweetie, are you okay? You look really pale,” Wade said concerned, put Peter just sighed.   
“Yeah, I don’t feel so good. I think the fever didn’t go down yet ... I’ll ... just ... uh.”  
Then soft brown eyes rolled back and Peter’s body sagged down, so fast that Wade could only just catch him before he hit the ground.   
“Fuck, Peter!” he called, but the younger man’s eyes didn’t open again, he was passed out with his forehead burning hot. “Fuck, fuck fuck.”

“Petey, wake up!” Wade begged, carefully shaking the slim shoulders, watching as his lover’s head rolled to the side. 

His blood felt ice cold, running through his veins in slow-motion, just like his hands now moved over Peter’s body. With experienced movements he’s used several times to verify the success of his mission, Wade checked for a pulse, but found it not more than fluttering lightly under his fingertips.   
The only sound in the room for long minutes was Wade’s laboured breathing, which the Merc himself didn’t hear over the ringing in his ears. 

Wade felt himself starting to shake, realizing what was happeing here.   
Peter was so, so sick, that his heart beat slow, that he passed out and burned hotter than a stove. The young man needed a doctor, Wade knew that. 

He knew it, but he couldn’t move. Couldn’t do anything but get chills down his spine and the urge to scream and run the second he thought the word “doctor”.   
Immediately, pictures began flodding his mind, any other thoughts than pure, bone-deep fear became foggy and insignificant. 

In his mind, he saw everything again, the medical facility he was brought in, which turned out to be nothing more than his prison for god knew how long. He heard the whirring and beeping of all kinds of machines to torture him, felt the needles and knives break his skin, felt the burning and sizzling of acid and boiling water all around. He wanted to scream, but no sound made it out of his mouth, Wade was frozen in fear, a shivering mess, readily available and weak enough for every single one of those doctors to get him and cut him into pieces once again. 

 

A ragged breath finally managed to rip him out of the vicious circle that was his memories. Wade looked down to find Peter’s face almost drained of all color, even the lips were white, but slightly opened, while another painful sounding breath was forced through them.  
Wade’s eyes widened as he stared down at his lover and realized ... 

Peter would die.   
He would die if Wade didn’t save him. 

It was the slap in the face he’d needed; Wade jumped up, still shaking all over like a leaf in a storm, but managed to grab his wallet and both their phones, pull on his hoodie, mask and gloves and hide some weapons within seconds and then wrap Peter up in a blanket. 

The Merc still felt his stomach turn when he thought of calling an ambulance and having doctors storm into his home, the place he considered the safest he’s ever had.   
It was bad, he was the worst person to ever be left with so much responsibility, but Wade’s battered mind left him no other choice than to carry Peter to the nearest hospital. 

Every now and again the two men would pass the huge white cube of a building, so Wade at least knew where to go, as he ran through the streets, not caring if anyone stared at them. It felt like hours to Wade, where he stomped throug the streets, panting not just from excertion, but from the fear that still had him in it’s claws. Finally the white building came into view and Wade steeled himself, held Peter close to his body and just stormed in, not even paying attention to the boxes screaming at him to run away. 

 

Wade ran into the ER, shouting for someone to help them. He was desperate and for a second he feared there would be nobody, he would be ignored in his plea for help as with all the other doctors in his past.   
Then a young nurse ran towards them, barking orders at others who brought a gurney for Peter.   
“What happened?” she asked in a stern voice and Wade grit his teeth, trying his best to keep his panic at bay while holding onto the side of the gurney, not wanting to leave Peter for even a second.   
“He’s been sick with the flu for ... I don’t know how long. His fever was bad since yesterday or so, and now he just passed out.”

The next minutes were a blurr for Wade, where he desperately clung to Peter’s bed, then stood in the corner of the treatment room while nurses and a doctor moved around the bed, checking vitals and shouting orders. 

Wade didn’t understand what they were saying, over the ringing in his ears. He was dizzy, so he leaned against the wall, shaking hands tucked under his arms, holding himself together.  
He wanted to scream, wanted to punch this people as they stood around Peter in their white jackets, touching and prodding him with needles. Wade wanted to take Peter away and hide him from these monsters with all their tools only meant to conduct pain.   
The only thing that held im in his place at the wall, that helped him surpress all the bad memories and the voices screaming at him to run, was the color that slowly came back to Peter’s cheeks. He was still pale, but at least he didn’t look as drained of life anymore, his lips started to get the faintest shade of pink again. 

Eventually – probably when he was stable enough – the doctors and nurses left them alone, only one blond haired girl still on Peter’s side. She was in her early thirties, and pretty, but Wade could only look at how her hands worked on the machine next to Peter’s bed, on the things that were laid out on a metal tray next to it. 

“Are you a relative?” she asked, skribbling something on a chart at the end of Peter’s bed.   
“None of your business. I am here with him, I will pay the bill for him, I will not leave this room.”  
She looked up after his grumpy words and her eyebrows furrowed.   
“I just wondered if you might want to call someone for him.”  
“Not now.”  
(He didn’t want to admit that his hands were shaking too much to even grab his phone. Nope, not gonna show this nurse how weak he was.)  
The room fell silent again, while the nurse prepared more things. Eventually Wade dared to move around the room to a lone chair next to the window. He sat down and watched the woman’s work closely, while still feeling cold sweat under his mask from fear. 

 

“Sir, don’t you, uh, want to take off that mask?” she asked after some time had passed that she’d spend calibrating the machine.  
“No.”  
The nurse looked at him for another long second, then bowed her head over Peter while preparing a syringe.   
“What is that?”  
“Excuse me?”  
“What is that you’re giving him. Tell me,” the Merc ordered in a harsh voice, hands still tucked under his arms to hide how badly they were shaking. Maybe the nurse saw it, since her gaze lingered again.   
“It’s to break the fever. This and an IV with fluids will at least help him feel a lot better by tomorrow, allthough not fully recovered yet.”  
“Mhm,” Wade just grumbled and watched out that she just only stuck the needle in Peter’s pale arm once. 

She fussed around Peter a bit longer, putting a bracelet on him and hooking his index finger up to the machine that read his blood pressure, temperature and oxygen level. Then she connected the IV drip to the crook of Peter’s arm, and Wade was relieved that she found the vein easily. Any sign that she wasn’t experienced enough and Wade would throw her out.

When her beeper chimed and she hurried out of the room, Wade let out a sigh of relief.  
They were alone now, and the Merc closed his eyes, tried at least to take deep breaths, like Peter taught him to. It barely did anything against the nausea and overall crawling feeling under his skin, but the steady in and out of breath in his lungs gave him something to concentrate on other than the sterile smell and the muffled sounds from the hallway. 

 

Wade had no idea how much time had passed when his mind cleared enough for him to watch Peter consciously. The young man would have to stay overnight, maybe more days ...  
Wade wanted to cry and run away at the mere thought, but he had to be strong now, for the single most important person in his life.

After some more deep breaths, Wade contemplated if he should get Peter some fresh clothes and his toothbrush. It was a surprisingly logical thought for his situation, Wade had to admit.   
After all, the young man was out like a light, for once really sleeping and not passed out or coughing violently.   
It still took Wade another ten minutes to even move, the environment made him so anxious he felt like his joints rusted. He checked Peter’s phone and found aunt May’s number, but decided not to call her – yet. It was already late and Wade didn’t want the old woman to walk around alone at night and he was in no shape to pick her up. 

Peter still slept peacefully under the medication, when Wade leant over him. He pulled up his mask and kissed the still too-hot lips of his lover.   
“I’ll be right back, I promise. I won’t leave you here and let them do things to you. I love you, I’ll come back, I promise. I love you,” Wade whispered, desperately hoping Peter would somehow hear and not be afraid alone. For sure Wade himself would be out of his mind with panic, so he wanted to make this promise to Peter, because no one ever made it to him.

Not even considering taking the way down through the sterile hallways again, Wade jumped out of the window and dissappeared into the night, running off his fear and making it back to the apartment in under ten minutes. 

He cursed the whole time, either loud or just under his breath, while his shaking hands grabbed Peter’s backpack, stuffing some sweatpants and shirts into it, fresh underwear, his toothbrush and shower stuff. The chargers for both their phones went in as well, then Wade stood around for a few seconds, trying to get his rambling brain to form some coherent thoughts.   
Sure he had about everything they needed – also lots of cash from the safe – Wade jumped out again and ran back to the hospital he dreaded so much, to the man he loved so much.

Of course he climbed in through the window again, breathing a sigh of relief when he saw Peter still asleep on the bed.   
Within a second, Wade was at the bed and kissing him again, so incredibly glad his lover was still there, none of the evil doctors had done anything to him. Breathing heavily from the running and his constant panic, Wade let his head rest next to Peter’s for a while, wrinkling his nose at the sterile smell of the sheets.  
God, if anyone of those doctors had taken him away ... Wade would have taken apart every inch of this place and every single doctor and nurse to find him. 

 

There was still no one checking on them, so Wade worked on taking the younger man’s shoes and pants off and changing him into the sweatpants he brought (he was pretty sure Peter would be ashamed when he realized people saw his Spider-Man pyjamas).  
When he was all settled under the blanket again, the arms on top of it because of the IV drip, Wade pulled the chair closer to the bed, but still with enough room for the nurses. He still felt extremely uneasy even being in this building, but nothing would get him away from Peter.  
The Merc wanted to hold his lover’s hand, to feel the familiar soft touch of slim fingers, but he also didn’t really feel secure touching anywhere, afraid of ripping off one of the cables, so he settled back on the chair. 

 

“Sir?”  
“Mh?” Wade’s head snapped up and he cursed himself for being so tired that he actually nodded off in a hospital. The blonde girl was back again, just rearranging the blanket over Peter.  
“How about I take a look at your hands? Are you hurt?”   
Wade’s blood went ice cold when he looked down and noticed he’d left his gloves in the apartment earlier that night, when getting Peter’s stuff. Now the nurse saw his scarred skin and the cancer bumps and even dared to take a step towards him.   
“No. Stay away,” Wade growled and watched as her eyes widened. “You stay away from me and take care of this man right there. If you so much as touch me, you will regret it.”  
She stared at him again, which Wade found very rude, then nodded and turned her attention back to Peter.  
“Alright, I’m sorry, Sir. I won’t bother you with it again,” she backtracked, and Wade looked at he for a moment, trying to find out if she said the truth, but couldn’t concentrate for long enough. “I just thought your friend here might want us to take a look at it, you know? He would want you to be okay, wouldn’t he?”

“Just take care of him and leave me be,” Wade sighed then, too tired from fighting back the constant panic gnawing at him. His mind just couldn’t work out anymore what kind of scheme she was playing on him, what weird trap she hid with offering her help. 

*************************

When Peter opened his eyes again, he wasn’t sure where he was. It confused him to stare at a white ceiling with dimmed neon lights and hear strange sounds from far away.  
He didn’t even know how long he slept or when he’d even been awake the last time. Everything was a blurr from the fever.  
“Peter? Can you hear me?”  
The young man turned his head and looked at his aunt May, who was sitting next to his bed. His hospital bed, he noticed when following the line of the IV drip down to the crook of his arm.   
“Aunt May? What happened?” he wanted to know but cringed at the sound of his own voice, barely a raspy whisper.

The old lady smiled gently and brushed sticky strands of hair from Peter’s forehead.   
“Your fever got worse, honey. Wade brought you here when you passed out at home. He called me this very morning.”  
“Ugh, oh no,” Peter sighed, not even able to understand so much yet. “Where’s Wade?”

“Right here, but he just fell asleep. He was here with you all night, watching over you.”  
A gratefull warmth spread through Peter’s body – having nothing to do with the fever for once – when aunt May said she’d get a nurse to come and check on him.   
“Just stay there and relax, sweetheart,” she said and stepped outside. Peter smiled, suddenly remembering the times as a kid when he was sick, and aunt May used to take care of him.   
He felt sleepy and still sick, but not as weak as when Wade came home. Peter slowly turned his head, finding every muscle in his body ache and burn, but he relaxed when he saw Wade.   
The Merc was asleep on a chair next to the window, burried in a hoodie and his mask. 

Peter’s brows furrowed when he saw the tense line of his lover’s shoulders and how he hid his bare hands in the pocket of his hoodie. The younger man tried to remember what had happened, but couldn’t, so he just assumed that Wade must’ve brought him here all by himself, and then stayed with him.   
Oh God, he must’ve been scared to death. 

Peter only realized he’d sighed when Wade stirred in his chair and sat up suddenly, noticing the younger man’s bleary stare.   
“Hey, Petey. How are you feeling?”  
“A lot better,” the younger man murmured and gestured for Wade to come closer. He jumped off the chair and leaned over the bed. “Thank you. For bringing me here.”  
Wade leaned back a bit, looking uneasy.   
“I know that ... it must have been hard for you. To stay here.”  
“I ... uh ...”   
Wade stuttered but couldn’t say anything more since aunt May came back with a nurse who checked on Peter. She was very friendly and smiled brightly when Peter asked for her name.   
“Ellen,” she said and smiled again when Peter thanked her for taking care of him. “You’re very welcome, but you should also thank your friend who brought you here.”  
Wade frowned deeply under the mask, sitting stiffly in his chair with crossed arms.  
“I know. I already did,” Peter replied, smiling gently at his lover, then looking over at aunt May. He looked at her expectantly and she understood right away, walking resolutely through the room to take Wade’s hand.   
“Come on, let’s get you some coffee,” she commanded and Wade’s eyes widened under the mask, but the Merc would never dare to deny aunt May anything. He adored the old lady, always said she reminded him of the _Golden Girls_ actresses.   
Maybe that was why he’d called her so late, Peter mused, while the nurse checked him over. Wade just didn’t want her to worry, so he’d called her when the worst was over. He would also never allow the old lady to walk around alone at night, every time they’d met outside of her house, Wade had insisted to escort her home, to have her safe.   
He never said it, but Peter knew Wade loved her a lot. 

*************************

“Auntie May ... uh ... don’t you wanna get back home? You must be tired,” Wade mumbled, but still clung to the old lady’s hand, his eyes flickering left and right, awaiting a team of evil doctor’s jumping him every second. It felt like there were bugs crawling under his skin, and his heart wouldn’t stop racing the further May took him down the hall.   
He hated every second of being out here, not at Peter’s side, but he hardly could refuse May anything.   
“Oh, Wade, I’m not tired, at all. You, on the other hand, barely slept,” she replied, stopping in front of the coffee machine and putting some coins into it, before gesturing for Wade to press a button.   
The Merc didn’t dare to let go of May’s hand, to be all alone in this creepy hallway, so he pressed one with the free hand.   
“Yeah ... uhm ... I can’t ... sleep that well, here.”  
While the machine rumbled to life – making Wade jump a little – aunt May looked up at him knowingly. She never asked what happened to him, but she’d seen him without his mask often enough to make her own guesses, so now she reassuringly squeezed his hand.   
Wade bowed his head a little in quiet thanks, grateful that she didn’t see the tears welling up in his eyes. This place had him so on edge that his nerves were worn thin, he was absolutely drained.   
“You should get home and get some rest, I will stay here and look after Peter,” she suddenly said, but her voice was soft, and understanding there that Wade would be eternally grateful for. 

“But ... but auntie May ... I can’t leave him here, I ... I can’t ...”  
Small, fragile hands were gently placed on Wade’s cheeks and he startled, looking right into the old lady’s calm eyes.   
“My dear, you need some rest. You need to calm down. Will you take some deep breaths for me?”  
Wade breathed in raggedly, in and out, in and out, until May nodded.   
“Very good. Now, you will drink that coffee and then go home, eat something, take a nap, and then you can come back. And don’t ever think of just spending time elsewhere, you know I will know if you’ve slept or not,” she said, one fragile finger raised, which left Wade no other chance than to nod. 

“Will you stay with him? Please, auntie May, don’t leave him here, they’ll ... they are so evil ... they’ll hurt him ... they’ll ...”  
May shook her head quickly, and clasped Wade’s hand in hers, settling him.   
“Shush, I will stay. Don’t worry. Now, give your old aunt May a hug.”  
Wade bent down slightly to close his arms around May’s frail figure, clinging on to her for long seconds, fighting down the panic trying to overwhelm him. He sniffled under his mask, ashamed that May heard, but she just patted his back soothingly. 

Just when they were about to head back to Peter’s room, a doctor came rushing past them and Wade froze when the white-clad man stood in front of them.   
“Miss Parker?”  
“Yes, Doctor ... Orwell?” the old lady said and squeezed Wade’s hand, probably having noticed the Merc’s nervousness.   
The doctor nodded and shook her hand quickly. They must’ve met earlier, maybe when Wade was still asleep.   
“I would like to ask you if we could release your neffew earlier. You see, we really need every bed we can get.”  
Wade couldn’t believe his ears for a moment and let his head snap up, eyes wide. His throat was dry in panic, but he wanted to shout at this guy that didn’t want to treat his Peter any further.   
“That seems awfully early, given that he was unconscious yesterday,” Aunt May mused and rubbed her thumb over Wade’s hand, still trying to soothe him, which the Merc was incredibly grateful for. His Auntie – and he was absolutely allowed to call her this, she said so herself – wasn’t just someone to hold on to now, but someone who understood him.   
“Yes, well, it may seem like it, but we would like to run some tests before that, of course. Observe him for another few hours and give him at least one more IV, so that we can be sure his fever won’t rise again. We will also give him a two-week treatment of antibiotics, but when he’s stable enough, there is no reason why he shouldn’t go back home.”  
When this guy, this torturer, mentioned his home, Wade felt his skin break out in goose bumps – the parts that could still do this.   
“If you can be absolutely sure he won’t get any more high fever, then we will take him home with us,” Aunt May answered and listened to the doctor when the three of them started moving again. Wade’s heart started to race again when they came to Peter’s room and the doctor actually entered. 

Wade felt like he was about to black out when the doctor touched Peter, talked to him and actually made him wince when he changed something on the IV drip. The edges of his vision greyed out already when soft hands – his Auntie May’s hands, thank god – pulled him over and stuffed him into the chair he’d been sitting in all night.   
They talked, Auntie May, Peter and the Doctor, but Wade couldn’t hear a word. His ears were ringing again and he felt a sharp pain in his temples, a headache starting to appear. At some point the warm coffee cup was pressed into his hands again and he was instructed to drink, so he dutifully took small sips. 

 

At some point – maybe because the doctor had left – Wade found himself jumping from his chair and to Peter’s bed, hugging the young man desperately, so so happy that he was still there and no doctor had taken him.

“Wow, there, careful ...,” he giggled, which was a wheezing sound more than anything. Wade stared down at him then, and Peter fell silent with all the fear he saw in the older man’s eyes.   
“So, we’re going home?” Peter whispered prompting, smiling gently at Wade and stroking awkwardly over one broad shoulder with his hand, mindful not to tangle the wires attached to his body.   
“Yeah, uh ... I think ...”  
“We will take you home when the fever’s been down for at least another two hours. So you can get some more rest,” Aunt May said and settled back on her chair at Peter’s side, leaving Wade to finish his coffee. 

He felt a little better, now that they were alone again and he had a hot cup in his hands, settling his nerves. But allthough he had soon finished the coffee, Wade felt sleepy all of a sudden, and cursed himself for it.   
He didn’t want to sleep here, or even relax, or do anything that would mean to let his guard down. 

Still, his lids steadily drooped and the last thing he saw was Peter, who turned his head toward him and smiled gently.

 

“He stayed here all night with you, you know ...,” May began thoughtful and settled back onto the chair, which she had moved close to Peter’s bed. The young hero turned his head back around to her, still smiling.   
She knew for quite some time now that they were a couple – they’d even spent last Christmas together at May’s house – and she also knew how Wade looked under the mask. But she never asked about it, probably guessing how much pain Wade went through.   
“He ... doesn’t like doctors that much ... or hospitals,” Peter croaked out and mumbled a thanks when his aunt gave him some of the pills to ease the pain in his throat. Peter was actually surprised when he found them faintly tasting of lemon, since he hasn’t been able to taste or smell anything for the past week.   
“He’s been through a lot, hasn’t he?” she asked and there was only sympathy in her voice.   
“Yeah. That’s ... uh ... why he looks like this ...,” Peter answered and glanced over, but Wade seemed to be still asleep, most likely completely drained of energy.   
“Oh ... poor boy ...,” May sighed with so much affection and no judgement at all that Peter was once again glad she was his family. 

 

He slept a bit more as the second IV ran through him – he would have complained about the needle in his arm, if it wasn’t for Wade and the fact that the stuff from the IV actually made him feel a lot better. So after his nap – thankfully Wade slept through it – he just grit his teeth when a nurse took the needle out and took him off the machine. He thanked her and also told her to thank Ellen, who’d taken so good care of him that night.   
“I will. But, Mr. Parker, I have to say I really recommend you to get your blood checked. Just to be safe.”  
The young man looked at her in surprise, not sure what to say. Until now, he hadn’t even thought about the possibility that people could have come into contact with his blood.   
“Oh, yeah ...,” he muttered, and the nurse glanced over her shoulder at Wade.  
“But your friend there made it very clear that he didn’t want us to draw any blood.”  
Peter tried not to look surprised at that, just nodded slowly and made a mental note to thank Wade again for thinking of this when he must have been scared. God, who knew what they would have done to him if the doctors found out about his mutated blood.  
Probably would’ve ended up at Oscorp, Peter thought grumpily and watched the nurse leave with the machine.

 

Just before the visiting time was over, Peter was released from the hospital. He watched a bit confused as Wade – not May, who was actually responsible for him – signed papers for him and paid the bill right away – cash, of course.   
The Merc also accepted a paper bag full of medications – pills, cough sirup, something for his sore throat, and something that he could take in emergency if the fever came back. 

After that, Aunt May packed his things into the backpack and Wade helped him dress, and even insisted they’d take a cab to their apartment.

“You heard the doctor, you need to rest a lot and take all those pills before you do anything. So no walking,” the Merc said once they were outside and helped Aunt May into the car. Peter smiled under his white mask at her – he was still contagious to be around, especially to older people – because she had also insisted on staying the day and caring for him, so that Wade could also take some rest. 

 

The ride home wasn’t long at all, but Peter could see how every second they got further away from the hospital had Wade more relaxed and calm. 

Wade carried Peter into the apartment and aunt May had him sit on the sofa under a pile of blankets while she ordered Wade around.   
“First you open all those windows, you boys need some fresh air. And then you’ll help me change the sheets, they need to be washed out with all this bacteria,” she explained and Wade nodded, having already taken off his mask. He wasn’t even shy around the old lady anymore, just followed her every word without a quip or remark.   
“I can take off the sheets alone, you mustn’t get sick, auntie May,” Wade said honestly and Peter grinned brightly.   
Sometimes he mused if aunt May was the closest Wade had to a mother or grandma in a very long time and that was why he was always at his best behaviour around her.   
“Then you can do that right now, Sweetheart,” she ordered, smiling gently, and Wade nodded and went to the bedroom without a word.

 

A while later – after he’d listened to extensive cursing and ruffling of sheets from the bedroom – Wade came back and carried Peter over to the bedroom, where he tucked the lithe body in.   
“And now you get some sleep, sweetie. I’ll wake you when it’s time for your next pill,” Wade said and was about to leave the room, when Peter reached out for him.

“Wade, c’mere,” he called out and tugged at the hem of the Merc’s shirt with his thumb and index finger. He hesitated, looked like he would like to run away, but in the end bowed down to bring his ear closer to Peter’s mouth.   
“Thank you. For getting me to a doctor and staying with me. I know how hard that must have been for you, and I appreciate what you did,”  
Still, Wade looked incredible uneasy and blushed furiously when Peter kissed his cheek softly.  
“It’s ... I ... that was ... nothing, really ... I mean ...”  
“No, it was everything, Honey,” Peter insisted, but Wade just sighed, and leaned back, his cheeks and the tips of his ears still pink. He fiddled with Peter’s fingers, rubbing them slowly and holding onto them as he mumbled on.   
“No, I mean ... it wasn’t ... I mean, for you ... I’d do anything ... I’d have stayed in that fucking scary hospital for as long as it took. For you.”  
Wade looked up and tears were glistening in his eyes, but he fought hard to not cry now. Peter smiled lovingly and moved to take off his mask – which was okay just around Wade – but the older man stopped his hand, held his wrist. Peter watched curiously when his Merc pulled the surgical mask down himself and kissed Peter, with so much passion and love that it definitely wasn’t the flu that had him breathing hard the moment they separated. 

Just for a few seconds there was silence between them, while Wade and Peter smiled at each other lovingly.   
“You know though ...,” Wade begann thoughtfully and replaced the mask over Peter’s nose and mouth carefully. “That mask is really creepy.”  
Peter laughed, and hugged his sweet, silly Merc with all the strength he could muster (which wasn’t all that much).  
“It’s just while Aunt May is here,” he promised and Wade sat up straight, suddenly remembering the old lady in the kitchen.   
“Oh, right, I gotta put up the guest bed for her! And Imma put on those new sheets we bought, the pink ones, she’ll like it.”   
With that, Wade hurried out of the room, but left the door open, so Peter could call for him or Aunt May if he needed something. 

The meds already made him sleepy, but Peter cuddled up in blankets and pillows and watched his little family for a while longer.


End file.
